The Hunter and the Prey
by SandraDeee
Summary: She couldn't change what she was. An anomaly. An aberration. Someone or something's prey. But she sure wished she could. Post episode 3.02. One-shot.


**Warning:** This story is a tag to episode 3.02 "Stay." It contains spoilers from both episodes 3.01 and 3.02.

**Author's Note:** The end of episode 3.02 when Audrey commented about Cookie really got to me because, in essence, it was symbolic of her giving up what she wanted with Nathan. Or at least that was how I perceived it. This story was born from that.

**Disclaimer:** Of course I don't own Haven. Nor do I make any profits, etc. But you guys already know that. :)

* * *

**"The Hunter and the Prey"**

With hot cocoa in her hand and a cool breeze on her face, Audrey Parker stared up at the night sky. She didn't entirely have a clear view, though it was not so much the occasional fleecy cloud illuminated by the moon that obstructed the view, as it was the subtle yellow glare of the town's streetlights. That didn't stop her from trying.

_Always one for a hopeless cause, aren't you? _

She would need a more remote place to observe the Orion constellation. Maybe then she would be able to make out the shape that the ancient peoples referred to as the Hunter. To think she was in some way tied to it, albeit in a way that very much was not her choosing, unnerved her. Of course, her life over the past six months had been a series of unbelievable truths thrust upon her. Why should this be any different?

But it was.

_How many people know their expiration dates?_

Steady footsteps on the wooden stairs leading to her deck made her jump slightly. A bit of her cocoa splashed out of her cup, onto her hand, and, she thought, onto her jeans. But Audrey didn't take the time to curse or attempt to clean her mess. No. Her first instinct was to reach for her gun, especially in light of recent events. She had stubbornly insisted upon staying in her apartment. Or as Duke put it, she had gone all "I am woman, hear me roar." It was much easier to be brave in the light of day, though.

"Parker?" She heard his voice before she actually saw his outline.

"Nathan." The relief in her voice was evident, and she felt some of the tension leave her body.

"You okay?" he asked. From the tone of his voice, she knew he could sense her nervousness. That—and her right hand still cradled her pistol.

"Fine. I'm fine." Audrey holstered the sidearm.

"I tried calling you. You didn't answer."

Nathan thought he'd better check up on her, she immediately realized. So dependable. So caring. So Nathan. Seeing him was just what she did and didn't need.

"I'm sorry. I just…everything's fine." Her voice trailed off before she added, "Do you want to sit?"

For answer, Nathan settled into an Adirondack chair next to hers. "What are you doing?"

"Stargazing." Her hand started to feel sticky from the spilled cocoa. She was a mess. Literally.

"Didn't know you were interested in astronomy," he replied conversationally.

"Neither did I until recently."

Nathan looked up at the sky. He spotted the glow of Venus and the North Star but saw little else. "You aren't going to see much from here."

"Too much civilization," she affirmed.

"There's a little place outside of town, high up, away from the lights."

"Same place you took Hannah Driscoll?"

He chuckled. "No."

She thought he would elaborate, but he didn't.

Strange. When she had first arrived in town and heard about Nathan and Hannah taking in a meteor shower, she had teased Nathan about being another teenage boy trying to take off a girl's clothes. Now it didn't seem so funny to her anymore.

She was going to have to get over that. And fast. She had no claim over Nathan, and by all rights, shouldn't complicate his life any further.

"Go inside. Get some more cocoa, grab a blanket, and I'll take you to a better stargazing spot."

"How did you know I had cocoa?"

"Smelled it. You have a spill?"

"Maybe." She considered his offer. "Come on in. If you're nice, maybe I'll make you some cocoa, too."

Nathan followed her inside. It wasn't the first time he had been inside since the day of their ill-fated date to find her place ransacked and her missing. Now, however, it looked normal rather than like a crime scene. She was grateful for some normalcy, even if the place did not have quite the same homey appeal that it once did.

"Place cleans up nice," he commented. His voice but neutral, but she saw the spark of emotions in his eyes and the set of his mouth. Being there reminded him of that night.

_Dammit._

When she was taken by—whomever—she had been so focused on her own predicament. What must Nathan have been going through? They hadn't really talked about it. Even when she had asked him to connect the dots for her—how did he and Duke partner up to find her, what steps led them to the hotel—Nathan gently told her to let it go for the time being. And then with so many questions about the Colorado Kid, Rosalind, her kidnapper, and the hunter clouding the air around them, they had not come back to it.

"I think there's still hot milk in the kettle," she murmured, willing her churning emotions to settle. "Can you reach up there in the cupboard and grab the thermos?"

As Nathan reached for the thermos, she saw something black peek out from the edge of his rolled-up shirtsleeve. "What's that?"

"A thermos. You did say you wanted one."

"On your arm," she clarified.

He didn't immediately reply, so she grabbed his forearm and pushed up the material of his sleeve.

_The_ tattoo, the symbol that had popped up in various incarnations—on people's gravestones, on the arm of more than one dead man, including Nathan's biological father.

"You didn't think you were going to keep this covered forever."

He looked down at where her fingers clung to his arm and then squarely at her. "Was hoping not."

There was something about the way he said it that made her knees quiver. Maybe it was the huskiness of his voice or the intensity of his gaze. Maybe it was simply the sense of foreboding that accompanied her thoughts of the tattoo and what it represented—both good and bad. "Why?" she managed.

"This gives me access to people who know more about the Troubles than we do. Besides, didn't you tell me I was going to have to take a side?"

"I said a lot of things that day. We both did."

_You're not just my partner, either._

She had gone back to kiss him that day. Her feet had dug into the ground, would not let her proceed until she let him know what he meant to her—when words simply weren't enough and her mind was jumping all over the place and her heart felt like it was going to come out of her chest.

"Has Duke seen it yet?"

Nathan didn't reply.

"Of course. Duke's the door you ran into."

* * *

"You sure you know where we're going?" Audrey asked as Nathan turned off the road and onto a dirt path.

"Almost there, Parker."

Within a minute, he slowed to a stop and put the Bronco in park. Without the headlights, the place was blessedly dark. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust. Thanks to the moonlight, she could see an open, grassy area, a steep drop off, ocean, and diamond-crested sky.

"Why have I never seen this before?" she asked.

"You probably have from a distance. The area's full of these coves."

Audrey and Nathan exited the Bronco, blankets and thermos in hand. He spread the blanket on the grass, and the two settled on it, pulling the other blanket over them.

"You warm enough?" he asked.

"Mmm." She lay on her back staring at the night sky. Nathan did the same.

A million stars shone down on them.

And when she was gone, those stars would go on.

_Forty-nine days_.

"You've been deep in thought," Nathan commented after several minutes of silence.

"Happens from time to time," she replied wryly.

"Having second thoughts about Cookie?"

"No," Audrey replied with certainty. "I did the right thing for him."

"You did a good thing for Liam. Tor, too. Maybe now they can start to be happy again. Maybe you can let yourself be happy, too."

"I'm not unhappy, Nathan."

"No?"

"No. I'm glad I've had the chance to be here."

"You talk like you're leaving."

"When I was in middle school, I read a book—or Audrey Parker read a book—about a simple-minded man who became a genius through surgical means. All his life, he wanted to be smart, and he finally was, only to discover the world was not as friendly of a place as he thought. He learned. He grew. He fell in love. And then he began to revert to what he was once. He fought against it, but he became what he once was all over again. It was inevitable."

"What are you saying?"

"I was talking with Duke earlier—"

"Duke," Nathan practically spat out.

"He's my friend, Nathan. He used to be yours."

"Parker, you can't trust him."

"He wouldn't hurt me. He wouldn't. Duke told me something that…" _Deep breath. Deep breath._

"Audrey?"

"Which constellation is Orion?" she suddenly asked.

Nathan scanned the night sky, located it, and pointed toward it. "There." She scooted closer to him to follow the line of his arm.

"I see." He lowered his arm, moving it around her body as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I always thought that was the Big Dipper. Those three stars."

"That's Orion's belt."

"What do you know about Orion?"

He shrugged. "Ancient guy who accessorized with belts."

She poked his rib, and he smiled. How nice to be close to Nathan.

It was the closest they had been since she had slept in his bed several nights earlier, the night he and Duke found her. When Nathan had told her that someone should be looking after her, she didn't give it much thought until he had pulled the Bronco in at his house and announced that she would be staying with him that night. Ever the gentleman, he had offered her his bed; he would take the couch.

She had protested the arrangement. She'd spoken of the imposition, that it wasn't right for Nathan to sleep on the couch when she was the one crashing, but what it truly amounted to was she wanted to feel safe, and Nathan made her feel safe.

After a long, hot shower, she changed into one of his gray t-shirts, climbed into bed and fell into a dream-filled slumber, of hearing Rosalind's screams for help, of the shadowy figure who demanded answers she didn't have, of the Colorado Kid's grave and what they would find there, of finally reuniting with Nathan.

Her dreams must have roused him, for she awoke to his touch and was stunned to find her face wet with tears she didn't even know she had been shedding. He wiped the tears away, soothed her, and held her close, their limbs tangled with one another.

They didn't dwell on the previous night as the sun rose, even though she was acutely aware of his delicious maleness. The hope of finding answers within the Colorado Kid's grave had her up and out the door. The only thing she found was more questions, but one of those was answered for her, thanks to Duke.

_Who is The Hunter?_

"The Orion constellation has another name. The Hunter."

She could feel Nathan's movement still.

"Fill me in."

She sat up. "Duke and Dwight were at the _Herald_ looking for information about the Colorado Kid. They came across an article about Lucy's disappearance—my disappearance—in 1983. Duke found another article about the Hunter meteor shower. Lucy disappeared the night of the meteor shower twenty-seven years ago. Sarah disappeared the night of the meteor shower twenty-seven years before that."

"The next meteor shower?"

"Forty-nine days."

"You're not going anywhere," Nathan said with certainty.

"History suggests otherwise."

"The Colorado Kid is out there somewhere. Your own words. 'Find him before the Hunter.' Lucy knew there was a way but ran out of time. We're going to find him, Parker. I'm not going to let you go."

"You're so sure."

"And you're not."

"I want to stay here." _With you_. "But something—we don't even know who or what—keeps pulling me away, plucking me out of my life, and inserting me into some other life. I keep trying to fight against it, but I can't change what I am, even though someone keeps changing _who_ I am. Am I even human?"

"Who you are is _you_. Names, dates, circumstances. Those change. What makes you _you_ doesn't. That can't be programmed."

She wanted to kiss him. To show rather than just tell him how much he meant to her. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine the feel of his body on hers. She had no doubt he was willing, that he had been taking his cues from her.

But she couldn't change what she was. An anomaly. An aberration. Someone or something's prey.

And if they couldn't find the Colorado Kid on the off-chance that he held the answers she needed, what then? There were no guarantees. She couldn't deepen the emotional bond with Nathan through sex, through a romance that was doomed to fail before it even started. No, she couldn't do that to him, not when she had an expiration date. For all the things she had no control over, this she did.

"Nathan, I need you to be my friend."

"I _am_ your friend."

"I mean, I don't think we should muddy the waters. With us."

He exhaled. She could hear the rush of breath; imagine the creasing of his forehead, though she couldn't bring herself to actually look at him, lest her resolve leave her completely.

"I'll always be your friend."

With that, she lay back on the blanket, found his hand, and stared at the million distant suns.

* * *

_The End_


End file.
